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Rock around the clock

Fes la foto gran / Enlarge picture

Em ve al cap una imatge d’infantesa. Un poal on ens banyàvem mon germà i jo a l’estiu. Aleshores el món estava a mig fer. Érem dos marrecs. Jugàvem a fer-nos tupés amb el sabó i dèiem que érem l’Elvis Pelvis. No sabíem res de res. Faltava un grapat d’anys perquè em gravés cintes i cintes del King, perquè m’adonés que Ell ja no m’abandonaria mai. I aquí ens teniu, Ell i jo mirant-nos l’un a l’altre a només unes milles de Las Vegas.

An image of childhood comes to my mind. A bucket where my brother and I bathed in the summer. Then the world was only half done. We were two kids. We played with the soap, making toupees and pretending we were Elvis the Pelvis. We did not know anything. A bunch of years had yet to pass for me to record tapes and tapes of the King, for me to realize that He would never leave me. And here we are, Him and I, looking at each other only a few miles away of Las Vegas.

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